Thaddeus Maxwell: The Master Engineer
by JTheClivaz
Summary: AU/OC. Thaddeus is a man with a rare and valuable talent and a brilliant mind for inventions. This is the story of the Master Engineer of Orzammar, the man who rose from human smith to dwarven God. Rated T to be safe.
1. Memories

**A/N: **This is the beginning of my Dragon age Story, based around the adventures of my OC Thaddeus Maxwell, Master of Mechanics and Runes. He will be involved in the events of the Blight, though my aim is not to make him a Mary Sue.

Note: Stuff in Italics is thoughts or memories. Quite a few of them here.

It was on the tenth of Pluitanis in the twenty seventh year of the Dragon age when I finally saw the Great Gates of Orzammer.

_Two years .Two years on the road and on the run to achieve a state where I felt sure I could attain my stated goal inside the city. I had aimed high. Some would say impossibly high. They would normally be right. My goal would be impossible to anyone but me, as I have skills that no one else has and I have done things no one else have done. I had to continue my work. I had to. It was what had driven me through two years of wet, cold, and hunger. Ever since that, Templar came to Highever Castle while I was experimenting with my effect on runes. The most annoying thing was that he wasn't even there because there was a rumour of me being a mage. I'm not even a mage in the traditional sense. I can heal or command the elements or confuse or misdirect using entropy magic. I can't manipulate the fade or the veil or the multitude of things that magic is said to be able to do. I have never had Demon filled dream or a temptation. I have heard that some mages fear sleep, because to them it only brings nightmares and offers that are hard to resist. In fact I do not dream at all, or at the very least if I do I have no memory of them whenever I wake up._

_Things had started to change around 21: Dragon, when I was apprenticed to the Dwarven smith who worked the forge in Castle Cousland. He was ageing, perhaps sixty, five and sixty back then. He said he had worked the forge since before the rebellion, and when the Couslands fled Highever to join the Rebellion he went with them. He had spent the Rebellion patching up armour and repairing weapons, and if he hadn't half of the rebels would been fighting without either. He had picked up swordplay from Bryce as well, and he had taken to it, though he didn't like using it, as the Dwarven Caste system was still partially ingrained in his mind._

_In short, the man was an excellent smith, but he knew he could not live forever. And so, notices had been put up on the chanter's board in Highever advertising the position of an 'apprentice of the forge'. I was one of the many applicants, as a job that paid good money and also provided food and board in Castle Cousland itself was well sought after. And So on the appointed day I turned up at the gates of the Castle at the appointed time._

_It was an awesome sight for a sixteen-year-old Blacksmith's son such as me. I suppose it would still be an awesome sight now, but I would be __less impressed and perhaps spend some time muttering about how it wasn't done to Dwarven standards. It couldn't have been, it was built by humans .Even to a sixteen year old me, I could see places where moss had recently been scraped off, different coloured stones on a section of the wall that looked like it had been repaired after it had fallen down, or even been pulled down. Highever was rather close to the __Orlesian Border for a major city, and so the Couslands couldn't afford to skimp on defence. As Such they had one of the largest and well trained guard forces and standing armies._

_Additionally, As part of this the Weapon restrictions normally placed on elves had been lifted and Elves where allowed to join the city guard. And while the Alienage still had it's walls, the Gate had been removed after the Rebellion, and never replaced. This was, in part, why so many if the infamous 'Night Elves', Teryn Loghain's scouts and archers had settled here. They had helped train up the first soldiers in bow work and stealth, and so Highever could boast the best, most well trained and flexible __forces in Ferelden. Today__ it was used to corral several young men in a courtyard and to tell them to stick their jaws back to their heads. While I felt like doing the same, I was able to restrain myself. For most of these people, the Chantry was the only Stone building they had ever seen in person. I, however, lived in one. My father had gone to great lengths to rebuild his forge and home in stone after an accident ended costing him the life of his forge... and my mother. I was very young at the time, and It is my great Regret that I don't have any memories of her. That was when we moved to Highever. I think we lived in West Hill before then, but I'm not sure. No matter. What is important is that I got the Job, with my skills advancing rapidly under his tutelage, and through him, I also learned about Runecrafting and tracing._

_While Normally only dwarves (who were immune to the stuff) and the tranquil (with their infinite patience and steady, steady hands) could Runecraft without a significant risk of dying, Bothvar gave (gave, not lent) me a pair of drakeskin gloves. Drakeskin! That's worth it's weight in Gold! And he just gave them to me! Now, what makes this sop special is that Drakeskin is tough enough to make sure Lyrium can't burn through it, so I was kept safe, and also thin enough that I still had finger dexterity enough to Runecraft. Needless to say, I was very grateful, eager to please and rearing to go. So we did._

_The most surprising aspect of my apprenticeship where the friendships I had struck up. Both the Young Lord and Lady Cousland enjoyed spending time in the forge, chatting with Bothvar, which was the name of the Forge master I was apprenticed to. They also started chatting to me. That was surprising. I was not that surprised that they chatted to Bothvar, as he was an old family friend, and he had been in their service since before they were swaddled. The fact that they chatted to me was most surprising. I found myself enjoying their company. They were most unlike what I expected Noble to be like. They acted like normal people. Aedan was an accomplished rouge, an expert in poisons and sneaking. He was also adept with the sword and dagger he used. Gwyneth was skilled with a greatsword, swinging it and handling it like Aedan handled his twined weapons. She was fast with it, extremely so. But Then again she had trained against Aedan, and Rouges were death to slow acting warriors, but Gwyneth was fast enough to parry her brother's strikes._

_I had found this out when I was invited to spar with them, which was about a year into my apprenticeship. It was half at their insistence, and half at the insistence of Bothvar, who told me it would be good if I reminded myself 'of what that sun you surfacers love so much looked like'. He was only half joking. I had spent a lot of time in the forge around them, and had started a few fires due to poorly crafted runes that I had been experimenting. I had managed to turn a water-producing rune into one that produced fire. That went down well. I think I managed to bridge two lines or the rune, doing... something to it. I can't claim to fully understand the process._

_Bothvar came along too, and he starting instructing me in basic technique with practice swords. While we were doing that, both of them stretched their muscles and browsed the weapon racks, giving weapons experimental swings before frowning at them and replacing them. Eventually, after much perusing and harrumphing, they picked out what they evidently considered the best. As Aedan took twice as long as his twin sister as he has two weapons to pick out, Gwyneth spent some time helping me out with my technique. Not that I mean to demean Bothvar, but he was too short to alter any mistakes he saw apart from with words, and so Gwyneth was invaluable in that regard. I suppose Bothvar could have brought a ladder of some sort, but that would have been such an easy opening he decided against it._

_The Training continued, and I became rather proficient with my blade, although sometimes I just preferred to sit and watch the Cousland twins spar. They were both incredible fighters. And then, soon enough, I was invited to take dinner with the Couslands. It was a surprise, and I am sure I embarrassed myself terribly, but The food was good, the company enjoyable, and I was invited again, until it became my habit to dine with them. I sat on the high table in the dining hall, while normally I ate in the mess, or in the Forge with Bothvar. I dined with the Cousland family, which was another surprise, I will admit. The first time, I remember sitting with Aedan on my right hand, and Gwyneth on my left. We sat on the left hand of the Teryn, with Fergus and his Ativan wife on the right side of the Teryna. One the other side of the table there were a few trusted knights and advisors, including a young Red-haired, handsome knight by the name of Ser Gilmore. I noticed him making eyes at Gwyneth, and her returning them, surprisingly enough. Well, that could not possibly end badly. Moving on. Surprisingly enough, I saw someone I didn't recognise, and I would have recognised someone as pretty as her._

_She was tall for an elven woman, yet still lithe and slender like all her kind. She had very pale skin that indicated she had spent a lot of time indoors. She had high cheekbones that framed her dark, piercing green eyes. Eyes which spoke of Joy and jubilation, and every so often she would smile slightly, like a man smiling at the memory of a joke or a good memory. I knew that look and that smile. I often wore that smile, and the look was one I wore when I was first given the position: Eyes that said 'This is what I want. I have worked for this. I have done something I have always wanted to do'. There was a staff leaning against the table next to her, and she was garbed like a mage. Given all the clues, she was a mage, and thus struck up a conversation with Aedan about who she was. After a while I decided to talk to her instead._

_Thus began my association with Neria Surana, unwilling mage of the circle. I enjoyed her company, and with the Lyrium she could provide, Bothvar and I could work on my Runecrafting. I also, through the use of a (again) miscrafted water-turned-fire-rune and a Lyrium potion I learned how to boil Lyrium back down into the dusty form it came in. The powder could then be used to create runes, where the liquid could not._

_It was also with her that I discovered that I could 'empower' Runes. It was a form of magic, she told me, but not one taught within the circle of Magi. Even if it was, she had no intention of telling the Templars about me. For that I was very glad, and moved us past any ingrained mistrust of Mages I might of kept from my days in the Chantry school. She asked if she could study it. I agreed, and so, every night I sneaked into her room and I demonstrated my skills while he chatted and laughed and joked. And every night I found it harder to leave. After six months of difficult exits and some positively filthy dreams (The only exception to my 'No dreams' rule) I finally admitted to her that I felt a lot more for her than simple friendship. And then... well. I had a very enjoyable evening, a very enjoyable night, and a very comfortable morning._

_I had fallen in love with her. It was the best, and worst decision of my life._

_But the past need not contain us at this juncture._

I trudged onwards.

A/N: I like reviews. They're like liquid encouragement to me!


	2. A Diary

**A/N: **The last chapter was just backstory. This is where it really begins. As I suck at writing long things, Part of this story is going to be in diary format.

_Journal of Thaddeus Maxwell, smith, mage of Sorts._

_Entry One:_

I got this from one of the merchants that seem to be content to stand outside one of the world's greatest marvels. _Fools. _Don't they understand what they're missing? Don't they understand what they're just standing outside?

Hah, listen to me speak. I sound like some pure-blood Dwarven noble! I'm no dwarf. And I'm no Noble either.

I suppose I should describe myself then, just to be clear that I'm neither: I am Six feet and three inches tall, with short white hair and light grey eyes. _Very _light grey, so light that they look white under certain conditions, or so I am told. I have about a week's worth of untended stubble at the moment, and that might not change. My razor is somewhere in my pack, but to be brutally honest I really don't see the point anymore. Why bother when tomorrow it's just going to grow back again. I think I'll just grow a beard. And I think I'll look good with a moustache. Don't you? I'm rambling again. To a book.

I am currently sitting on my tent, which is currently lying disassembled inside my pack, which is being a helpful barrier between me and the ground. I would be in the process if finishing off this piece of meat, (I don't know what _kind _of meat it is, and to be honest I don't care: It isn't camp rations, therefore it's the food of Kings are far as I'm concerned.) But I'm writing this instead. And I'm hungry. So I'm finishing this entry now.

_Thaddeus Maxwell._

_Entry Two:_

I've finished my lunch. I've also just finished waxing my armour and polishing my long rifle. I suppose I might as well tell about both of them. I'm just sitting here after all.

The armour I've made with my own hands. Well, someone else hunted the animals and tanned the leather, but I've inscribed it and I enchanted it and I made it into a suit of armour that provides more protection than Steel! There is a reason inscribed leather is so expensive. Because no matter what it costs, people _will _pay the price. Or, they can simply make the stuff. Oh, wait. Most can't.

I made it look unique as well. While most light armour uses some sort of pleated leather _skirt _for the protection of the body below the waist and above the knees. It is made that way so that a larger number of people can wear it, and thus so the smith can sell more sets, and thus make more money. Luckily for me, I didn't make my armour for _profit. _I made it to fit. And fit it does. The under-layer fits me like a glove and is comfortable, but is hardly the most decorative or flatter piece of armour. My great innovation (well, as far as this armour is concerned) fits over it. Or rather, onto it. You see, attached to the under-layer are a series of hooks and clasps that attach to a series of hardened, reinforced, inscribed leather sections to fit over the under-layer, anchoring themselves to the under-layer and to each other. For some of the sections, the leather is thinner and overlaps like scale armour to allow flexibility while still providing protection for joints and the like. This should, in theory, mean the deliberating strikes to weak points often used by assassins would be lessened in effectiveness. Hopefully I never find out, but who am I kidding? The Tevinter Imperium is renowned for its cut-throat politics and assassinations, but It was the Dwarves who taught them to trade. With Trade comes money, with money comes power, with power come politics. With Dwarven politics you will thus get dead bodies. Simple, really.

Tangent over, back to my armour. The leather sections are, again, light blue due to the processes involved in making them. However, almost invisible due to the colour, of again, the armour, are runes etched in Lyrium. This was why this took me so long to make the armour set. This is what also led me to design the entire under-layer and section system. It was so I could place runes on both sides of the plates. I have inscribed all sorts of runes upon the armour: Runes of invigoration and dexterity. Runes that heal my wounds. There are even runes that increase the increase the strength of my sword-strokes. However, these runes are all on the inside of my armour, hidden from sight. The runes on the outside of my armour are of much more interest to me. Not in the least because I invented some of them.

There is only one type of Rune on the outside of my armour Runes of repulsion. The runes of repulsion I am the most proud of. I should be, seeing as I am the first person ever to craft _Runes _of repulsion. Mages have been summoning _Glyphs _of repulsion for centuries, but no smith has ever made a repulsion rune. It happened quite by accident, to be honest. I seem to remember it started with a miscast water rune... No matter. This isn't about the past.

The effect of the repulsion runes is that incoming blades and arrows are slowed down before they impact the armour, or if the swing or arrow would have simply scraped along an edge or would have been a near miss the weapon can be moved away from the armour. It is a rather impressive sight, I will admit.

There is another fact I should mention about the armour. My... _unique _abilities mean I can, for the lack of a better word, _empower_ the runes, meaning they violently push everything within three, four? Metres away from me for a few seconds. However, afterwards they are temporally saturated with mana and they are thus completely useless for about two minutes. This time is thus the only time I can easily get the armour _off _without it fighting me every step of the way. Have I mentioned I _love _the law of unintended consequences _this much?_

Another thing: When I said that the runes on the outside were nearly invisible? That is true, and yet... not true. You see, I painted over the rune tracings with white paint. So while the runes _themselves _are almost unseeable, any idiot can tell you that they exist.

Oh, Another thing that I am quite proud of! Because of the shape of the runes, the Runes can be linked with curving lines of Lyrium, which enhances their effect. As such, each area of the body (torso, back, arms, legs etc.) is linked in this way, which, as well as looking _awesome, _means the field is more effective overall. It's still a _bitch _to get off though.

But Enough about my Armour. I may have spent an entire page on it, but _this, _is my pride and joy. While my armour makes use of my Repulsion Runes, this is where they are most useful. My masterwork could not exist without them after all: Maxwellian Long Range Accurate Destruction Device.

It is something of a beauty to behold: all Silverite and Whitewood.

_Several lines of writing have been written and then scrawled over, beyond the point of legibility or comprehension._

No. The design is too precious to note down anywhere. I have mused before purchasing this Journal on the dangers of Dwarven Politics. I believe it has a chain reasoning going trade brings power, power brings politics, dwarves bring dead bodies, and thus Dwarven politics bring dead bodies. It even had comparisons to the Tevinter Imperium. I was quite proud of it really.

It has now occurred to me that the time I spent writing this journal could be spent getting into the city.

I think I am scared. Scared of failure. Scared of not getting in.

I will need a moment to compose myself.

Then I shall enter Orzammar, one way or Another.


End file.
